Of Love, Fear and Control
by Lunael
Summary: SeiferxZell. Alternative ending to Enduring it. For years, Seifer has thought the whole universe was set against him, and that it was the reason why he couldn't move on. But what if the Sorceress' wake has left more damage in his mind than everybody assumed? Because control leaves scars, and in Seifer's case, reinsertion wasn't going to be so simple. Slash, ZellxSeifer later
1. Chapter 1

This is an alternative ending to my piece _Enduring it_, because I love happy endings, but I still felt that _Enduring it_ was sort of a complete piece … So I wrote a multi-chapter alternative ending to the original story. With a little twist is store for you guys ;)

I'm a little nervous about this series, because I'm planning the go down the "graphic" road, if you get my drift… And I've never written graphic before. I've written a lot of things, but I've never actually written anything meant as "hot" before. I'm not really sure yet how to keep balance between too much and not enough. Oh, well. Be gentle with me, it's my first time *wink*

And again, English is not my native language, and I apologize for any mistakes you may run into. Speaking of which, anyone (serious) interested in beta-reading this series? I feel I could do with some help somehow.

~o0o0o~

**Of Love, Fear and Control**

Alternative ending to _Enduring it_

Chapter 1

Seifer Almasy was sulking. To say he was dissatisfied with his current predicament was an understatement, though God knew he really shouldn't be. When he would put his hands on that damned cowboy… It was all his fault. It was the discussion in the ballroom that triggered everything, Seifer knew it. If the damned air-head flirt would have just shut up his big, fat mouth, none of this would have happened. None of it.

Seifer let out an irritated snort. He guessed that after Irvine had confronted him about his so-called sexual orientation and crush on a certain common childhood friend, he had gotten more… guarded. Okay, he started to avoid him and those idiotic friends of his. What of it? It was not like they were missing him - he'd never actually been on speaking terms with any of them and had actively tried everything except physical violence to deter them from poking their nose into his business. So what if he wasn't socializing much? It was common knowledge he spent most of his time either in the training center or locked up in his dorm room and nobody ever complained about that before –except Quistis, but then again Quistis always managed to find something to bitch about Seifer anyway. So what if he was grumpier than usual? So what if he didn't bother to slip acidic comments at every occasion? So what if he took his meals at weird hours to avoid meeting up the Squall and his cronies? So what if he didn't answer his phone and return his calls? But somehow, they had to make a_ huge_ deal out of it. It was like they had nothing better to do with their spare time than bugging him.

Seifer had a pretty good idea how it happened. Rinoa, being her usual self-appointed pain in the ass, must have noticed he was making himself sparse and whined to Squall about it because she thought he needed to "open up" or some similar sappy crap. Squall in turn must have asked Quistis to check on him to make his ditzy wife shut the fuck up. And Quistis, pissed to have to play babysitter, decided to take it out on Seifer by making an equally big deal out of it. She started to randomly show up at the Training Center and probe him with incessant questions and long speeches, getting harder and harder to brush off. And while he used to get some fun out of riling her up in the past, the blond man got fed up of his ex-instructor's new-found patience and zeal pretty quickly.

He knew he just had to act like his usual unpleasant self to get her off his back, but he honestly couldn't care for it. He didn't want to see or hear about any of these morons and was not going to adopt a different behaviour just because it annoyed one Quistis Trepe. And the discussion he's had with the cowboy had strictly _nothing_ to do with it, okay? He was simply fed up with Squall and his cronies and needed some time off. Off the girls' false sweetness, off Squall's scowl, off Quistis' bitching... and off that stupid cowboy. Anyway. Seifer had expected Quistis to quit pressing him with questions after being thoroughly ignored for a week or so, but his silence seemed to have the opposite effect on the nosy blonde and only served to fuel her determination, much to his annoyance. She became so insufferable the gunblade user took the habit to conceal himself in the Training area's abundant vegetation whenever he heard someone walking toward him, in the odd chance he would run into her. He also started going back to his dorm room past her bedtime hour to avoid her, hiding his evenings away in he finest hiding spots he had come to discover back in his days in the Disciplinary Committee. He wasn't particularly proud of being reduced to hiding from his ex-instructor like some delinquent teenager, but at that point he was ready to do anything to spare himself the blond woman's false concern and endless lectures. And as far as he was concerned, it was all her damned fault to start with – if she would just get the hint and leave him be, there would be no need for him to lower himself to hiding behind a giant fern everytime he heard someone walking by.

Unfortunately, Seifer's attempts to avoid Quistis Trepe weren't always successful, and the damned woman knew very well she could get a hold of him right after his weekly meeting with Kadowaki. Thus she started to hang around the infirmary on Tuesday afternoons. Not that it did her much good, because the ex-knight just let her talk until she dropped the matter and left. She usually got fed up talking within an hour - probably thanks to all the efforts he had made to become insufferable to her in the past years, she didn't seem to be able to stand him longer than that. But it was still such a pain.

Until it got worse.

Annoyed to have gotten nothing out of him after a couple of weeks, Quistis eventually told on him and had a bitching session with Kadowaki, who of course made an even bigger affair of the whole thing – and from then on, things got out of proportions. The two of them eventually confronted him about his attitude; he was called in for a "special" session and was thoroughly interrogated by the conniving women, who made quite a show of being concerned. They wore long, serious faces and spoke in hushed tones of their "concern for his mental health" and how opening up and talking "would make him feel better" and such for hours on, as if they believed repeating the same crap over and over would eventually make him open up at last. Like that tactic had worked in the past five years. Truly pathetic.

It was around that time too that the others also got on his case. Rinoa was the first to join Quistis in her crusade to Have Seifer Get Help, the young woman apparently not getting the hint that if he had wanted to 'talk to a friend', he would have returned the fifty or so messages she'd left on his answering machine in the past weeks. Fortunately, the pregnant ditz was easy enough to avoid, mostly due to the fact that she was into her 8th month of pregnancy and therefore wasn't very difficult to outrun. Which unfortunately was not the case of Selphie, who seemed to have gotten into her thick head that he needed cheering up and that this involved having him participate in the elaboration of the next big Garden event. Or showing up at six in the morning in his dorm room with big red helium balloons and cold blueberry pancakes. Or barging into his room late at night in green pajamas with popcorn and chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream to force him to listen for 6 hours non-stop to some of the worst action movies they used to watch back at the Orphanage. Or leave creepy Moomba plushies on his bed. You get the general idea.

If he hadn't known better, Seifer would have by then started to believe this was some sort of conspiracy they were all involved in to make him leave at last.

When he thought things couldn't possibly get worse, Irvine started to hunt him down as well, lurking around his dorm room late at night to get a hold of him when he came out of his hiding spots and returned to his room. The smiling auburn-haired man was looking for an occasion to have 'a private word', as he usually would put it. And while he could endure with grinded teeth in the worst of cases any of the girls' probings, he sure as hell didn't want to have to confront the cowboy about his homosexuality –ever- again. No need to say that by then, his already pretty shitty life had literally turned into an even shittier permanent game of hide and seek.

To make matters worse, there was that stupid window incident. Thinking back on it, Seifer had to admit it had been a pretty stupid idea. One evening Rinoa decided to show up at 10:40 p.m. and knock on his door. For some reason, she found it odd that he didn't open up – I mean, why would anyone possibly ignore her at 10:40 pm? – and went to get Quistis, who, obviously pissed to have been waken up by her boss' ditzy wife just to check on him, started to pound on his door angrily. Seifer didn't want anything to do with either of them, so he ignored them, hoping they'd think he was still in the training center taking his frustration on the few T-Rex that Squall hadn't managed to kill yet. When he heard the blonde tap in the code to override the electronic lock on his door, he got so annoyed at the two of them that he flew open his tiny window, broke the security railing and started climbing on the Garden's outer walls. He heard Quistis and Rinoa yell at him to get back, but he ignored them, figuring out it would serve the two nosy pests right, and made himself as comfortable as possible in an alcove sheltered from the icy sea wind – and, more importantly, somewhere nobody would come to nag him.

In retrospection, those couple of hours of reprieve hadn't been worth the trouble he got into afterward, for when he finally climbed down to his dorm room, Quistis, Irvine, Selphie, Rinoa, Zell and Commander Leather himself were all waiting for him - and needless to say, they were not pleased. That little stunt cost him one hell of a scolding from a very angry Irvine, who warned him that if he ever did something so reckless again, he'd go straight to Zell and spill everything, word of honor or not. It also cost him a very serious special meeting with Squall, Quistis and Dr Kadowaki that Seifer preferred forgetting altogether. Somehow, the silly women had gotten into their thick heads that his seven-hour break on the Garden roof had been a suicide attempt of some kind. A suicide attempt, would you believe? Well Squall hadn't either, but he still increased his meetings with Kadowaki to three times a week as a payback of some sort. That ass.

After that stunt, most of the old orphanage gang started walking on eggshells with him and taking turns to watch over – read stalk - him, like there were expecting him to jump off the railing at any moment, and that really annoyed the hell out of the blond man. Every morning, when he would leave his room, there would be one of Squall's cronies waiting outside his room to escort him to the training area. Someone else would magically show up at the entrance of the Training center whenever he tried to leave his workplace to walk him to his destination, wherever that happened to be, and then back. And as if having him escorted everywhere like a five year old kid wasn't enough, Quistis and Commander Leather himself took the habit to randomly check up on him during the day. And of course, they always felt chatty – especially the girls - and forced him to listen to their empty chatter all the time. Even Squall awkwardly attempted to pick up discussions with him – which besides being rather creepy was just _wrong_. Seifer had a lot of experience putting up with unpleasant situations, but this one was seriously grating on his nerves. He only wanted to be left alone for fuck's sake, how could those dimwits not get it? It wasn't like it was hard to figure out!

At this point the only thing Seifer really wanted to do was to lock himself up in his room and simply ignore the whole world. Squall could throw him out for neglecting his duties as Training Center gardener for all he cared: being a wanted fugitive on the run was starting to sound much more interesting than being stuck here. But even running away wasn't an option for him anymore, for Irvine was now very intently on his case, and although he hadn't lorded it over so far, they both knew the cowboy had him by the balls and the blonde didn't dare pissing him off again and run the risk of having his crush on Zell Dincht unveiled. So he sucked it up and put up with his new routine the best he could – simply put, he openly refused to acknowledge their presence and spent his days taking out his frustration on the rapidly thinning grat population of the Training Center.

Seifer didn't know who had come up with the idea - obviously, it could not have been Squall's. He was pretty sure Puberty boy was quite fine with the idea of a silent, brooding Seifer and wasn't overly worried about how the grat population would cope with his newfound hobby. Anyway, it eventually occurred to somebody, who had a sudden flash of genius, that he may be feeling crammed up after spending five years locked up inside the Garden and that having some fresh air would lift his spirits better than having four women and one cowboy nagging him constantly. Making him feel like his job was important and appreciated, or some similar crap, was probably also part of the package deal. Or perhaps Squall just wanted to send Seifer off for a while so his wife would shut up about him, who knows. Anyhow, it was decided that the Training Center could do with more species of monsters to train on for cadets than just the stupid ol' grats, something everybody could agree on. Seifer being in charge of the Training Center and the monsters it contained, he was therefore sent with a team of freshly graduated Seeds to the Timber and Dollet areas to capture a couple of low-level monsters to bring back to the BGU.

Sounds pretty neat, huh? Seifer had to admit that it was a pretty sound idea and that under normal circumstances, he would have been beyond thrilled to be allowed to walk out of the Garden and spend a couple of weeks patrolling wildness to fight and capture monsters, even if he had to do the whole trip with a bunch of rebellious young brats to watch over him. But that was the problem: Squall hadn't trusted half a dozen inexperienced Seeds to look over him.

So he had sent Zell Dintch along to keep an eye on him and supervise the mission.

Which explained why Seifer Almasy was taking place in the passenger seat of a cargo truck beside the martial artist, inwardly cursing a certain cowboy for having to spend the following weeks in close quarters with his secret crush. Because even if this wasn't some sort of twisted plan conceived by the delusional auburn-haired man to match him up with Zell Dincht – a possibility he wasn't ready to discard just yet – it was still Irvine's fault he ended up in this situation. He was the one who triggered all this shit. And now, to top it off, he was about to spend a little over two weeks with the martial artist. It was hard enough to avoid him as things were in a Garden full of students, how was he supposed to survive living two entire weeks with him? This was going to be hell.

Seifer knew a normal person would be pleased to spend so much time with someone they had a crush on. But the thing was, Seifer didn't WANT to have a crush on the stupid martial artist, who would sooner turn into a hippopotamus than feel anything close to attraction toward him, nor did he WANT to spend time with him and be reminded at every moment the younger man couldn't stand the sight of him. And he sure didn't WANT to be watched over by the blonde man, who may somehow notice his ex-bully had feelings of some sorts for him, which was something Seifer wanted to avoid at all costs.

The truck's cabin was hot and stuffy under the mid-summer blazing sun, the warm air coming in from the open windows barely refreshing him. Next to him, the driving blonde was humming to the distant sound of the hard rock music coming from the radio, an arm resting on the open window frame. He bore a contented, relaxed expression, his pale blond locks and fair skin bathed by the sunlight. Wearing a casual – and rather nice fitting, Seifer couldn't help but notice – shirt with rolled up sleeves exposing his muscled forearm, pair of well-worn dark jeans and colourful sneakers, the martial artist looked anything like the grotesquely high-ranked professional mercenary he truly was. In fact, if it hadn't been for the heavy fighting gloves he was wearing, Seifer guessed he could have passed for a young man going on a vacation trip. But then again, Seifer guessed that for someone as highly skilled as Zell Dincht, catching a couple of low-level monsters and babysitting a brooding ex-villain was some sort of a paid vacation.

"Would it kill you to try to be happy 'bout it?" Zell's exasperated voice suddenly interrupted his chain of thoughts. "You've been sulking ever since we left the Garden."

Seifer didn't answer.

"Look, I know we kinda clash, but let's just try to be civil for change and enjoy the time off. It's a nice summer day, the sun's shining, birds are singing… y'know."

"Shouldn't you be saying that we need to concentrate on the mission?" Seifer asked humourlessly and Zell snorted.

"What mission? Seriously, all there is for us to do is to set up a couple of traps around the countryside, do a little camping, collect cages and go back to the Garden. A handful of rookies could have done it and we both know it. I think this spot should do," the martial artist added as an afterthought, turning on his CB. "Team red to all units. We're gonna stop and set a trap here. Over."

"Then why did _you_ end up with the babysitting job?"

Bringing the engine to an alt, Zell answered with a shrug. "I guess it was my turn to take on the shitty mission no one wants. If you didn't want to have to deal with me, you should have told Squall. I'm sure he would have been happy to have you spend two weeks in the woods with Selphie or Quistis instead."

Seifer grimaced sourly at the chirpy young man, who was already out of the truck cabin and yelling orders. Once again, the gunblade user was reminded that in spite of his perpetual enthusiasm and boyish looks, Zell Dincht was no longer the prissy teen he used to bully in his cadet days. The war had changed them all, and somehow it seemed to have given the martial artist an assurance and a sense of detachment nobody had thought the boiling and energetic teenager he used to be capable of. Or perhaps it taught him to just don't give a shit so much about what people thought anymore, who knew.

Though not a nostalgic person by nature, Seifer found himself thinking back of the time when his relationship with the blonde was simpler, back to those glorious days when he had been a naïve teen impatient to prove himself to whom life seemed full of promises. Back then, everything had been simpler. Back then, Seifer had been so sure of his self-worth he would have never felt any kind of anguish over something as trivial as an infatuation. He would have made his move and shrugged off any refusals. Actually, Seifer was sure he would have never felt any kind of attraction for the thin-skinned and touchy teenage Zell to start with. But that was the thing: Zell was no longer a touchy teenager wearing flashy, baggy clothes and bearing a ridiculous haircut.

That stupid haircut. Now that he thought about it, it had been one of the reasons why he had liked to mock and bully the younger blonde so much in his youth. The martial artist still styled his air up, but he'd gotten rid of that air-defying chicken-crest by the time Seifer was accepted back into the Garden. The gunblader remembered it had been a shock to see him without it at first. Without it, his hair actually looked rather soft and –

Now, those were not the kind of thoughts he wanted to be having around the younger man, the ex-knight thought with a scowl.

Seifer followed Zell out of the truck and watched at a safe distance the martial artist order the younger Seeds around and have them set up one of the large steel cage into a trap. He got a couple of dark looks from the Seeds while doing so for letting them do all the hard work by themselves, but he knew he would have received an even colder treatment had he offered his help, so he preferred to stand back and watch. He tried to watch everything but _him,_ but it was a near-impossible thing to do as the shorter blonde seemed to be everywhere at the same time, exulting efficiency as he ordered the Seeds around in that brisk and commandeering officer voice of his. And Seifer, though he knew better, couldn't help but stare at him – no matter how much he tried to settle his attention anywhere else, his eyes were drawn to him like a moth drawn to light.

Every now and then, the younger man's head would turn in his direction to check on him, and Seifer made sure his eyes were anywhere but on the energetic blonde every time it did, looking calculatingly vague and slightly annoyed. It was an art he'd gotten very good at in the past years – ogling without getting caught. Not that it was very proud of it, but at least it had its usefulness.

Setting the cage and trap took a good three hours. When they were done, they lunched quickly, got back in the insufferably hot truck and rode for another two hours or so until they reached the edges of the Dollet fields, where Zell decided to call it a day and set their camp for the night before it was too dark to assemble the tents. Though the camps' ambiance was more than a little cold, the evening went well until martial artist ordered everyone to bed and Seifer discovered they shared a tent together. The gunblader had expected something of the sort, but not what was coming next.

Digging through the Seed mission bag they had brought to their tent, Seifer frowned.

"Dincht."

"What?"

"There's only one sleeping bag in there," Seifer remarked, his frown deepening. Somehow he wouldn't be surprised they had "accidentally" forgotten to load up his.

"Bravo, you know how to count, Sherlock. Want a badge or something?"

"Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"It's a double bag." the younger blonde replied dully, and Seifer froze on the spot, staring at the offending bag with disbelief and dismay.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"That's what I told Squall, but he said I either shared a sleeping bag with you or I handcuffed myself to you and honestly, I could think of more interesting ways to wear handcuffs."

For a few seconds, the ex-night stared blankly at the younger man, his brain assaulted by all the possibilities and images such a statement brought to his mind. Some of them were so lewd they could have made him blush if the whole situation had not left him so aghast.

"What the fuck?! Why the hell would we need to be handcuffed for?"

"To make sure you won't flee during the night. Duh."

"Where to?" Seifer shouted angrily. "We're in the middle of fucking nowhere!"

"Yeah, I guess even Larvas wouldn't put up with you and your charming personality. You done? Or are you gonna bitch for long? 'Cause I've driven all day, I'm dirty and tired and I'd like to get some sleep at some point."

Seifer could only stare in utter disbelief as Zell unpacked the sleeping bag and spread it out in the tent. This could not be happening. This had to be some kind of a very bad joke. He was not going to be sharing a double sleeping bag with Zell Dincht. No way. This _had _to be some sort of joke the blonde was pulling on him. But, a traitorous little voice reminded him, this was just the kind of thing he could see Squall ditch on him, to make sure he was miserable even out there in the Dollet fields. And he didn't put it beyond the stupid cowboy to have been Puberty boy's source of inspiration on that one. Shit. _Shit, shit shit!_

"No way I'm sleeping with you," Seifer stated loudly, and the younger blonde gave him dark look.

"And what exactly makes you think you've got any say about it? 'Cause you don't. No more than I do. D'you think I'm happy about this? Think I'm thrilled to be your sleeping buddy for the next couple of days?"

"I don't give a shit how you feel about it or what Leonhart said - I'm not sleeping with you, period. Get that through that thick head of yours."

"Okay, now let me get this straight, Almasy. YOU better get this through YOUR head: for the ridiculous salary I'm being paid to take care of you, I'm not going to put up with any of that kind of shit. This situation stinks enough as it is without you having a tantrum over it. So if you keep on making a fuss 'bout it, I'll cast stop on you and handcuff you to the nearest tree for the night. Got it?"

"You wouldn't."

"Why, because I'm too nice?" Zell asked in a mock tone. "Because it's not fair? Or because Squall would care? Oh, go ahead. Give me just one reason to tie you to a tree and keep the sleeping bag to myself. Just try it."

Seifer grinded his teeth to hold back a bitter retort. Zell smirked, looking triumphant.

"Well then, now that it's settled, what side do you want? 'Cause I myself prefer sleeping on the right side, if it's okay with you of course."

"Oh, shut up," Seifer growled, and the younger blonde's smirk widened, the Seed obviously amused to have the upper hand against his old schooldays bully.

"My, my. Such a cranky attitude. It's just a camping trip, Seifer. You've gone camping before, haven't you? It's no big deal."

Seifer didn't comment on the martial artist's words. Of course, for Zell, this was not going to be a big deal; for the gunblader, it was another story. How could he not be upset? Let's face it: he was a total closet case who was about to share a sleeping bag with the guy he's been secretly pinning for for more or less two years. Oh, right. Let me correct that: he was a closet case having serious issues about his homosexuality who was about to share a sleeping bag with the incredibly hot, straight childhood friend he's been secretly dreaming about like a needy teenager for more or less two years. Could this get any worse?

Oh, but it could, his mind helpfully piped in. It could get SO much worse. What if Zell noticed something? What if he had a wet dream? What if he talked in his sleep? What if his hands got adventurous while he slept? It was not the black eye he was sure to get that scared him much, but the thought of Zell Dincht finding out about that dirty little secret of his. God, he didn't know if he could live through the sheer humiliation.

Okay, he _would_ survive, his mind supplied. He was already held in the lowest regards by everybody who cared to remember his name, so it was not like he could get much lower. Seifer was probably the only person in the whole universe who seriously gave a shit which way he swung the bat. Besides, given his sleeping pattern of the last five years, he was more likely to have nightmares than erotic dreams if he ever fell asleep with the martial artist. Not that it was much better, since Seifer sure as hell didn't want anybody finding out about those or about his chronic insomnia – if Zell found out about these, he was sure to report them to Squall, who in turn would notify Kadowaki, and he would never hear the end of it. They could even try to use this against him to finally have him sent to the Estharian psychiatric institute, and the prospect of spending the rest of his life in a high security madhouse didn't sound particularly appealing to Seifer.

Anxious and irritated, the ex-knight kept his comments to himself and stiffly sat down next to the sleeping bag to remove his boots, his belt and his summer jacket - the only one he owned. He then grumpily set to slide himself in the sleeping bag, hoping that by the time Zell would join him, he'll be able to pretend to have fallen asleep and ignore him.

The martial artist looked up from the report he had been reviewing with a quizzical expression. "Huh, watcha doing?"

"Going to bed," Seifer answered shortly. DUH.

"And you're not changing?"

"No, Dincht, I'm not."

"Why? Didn't you bring pjs?"

"I _have_ spare clothing, but I'm keeping it for later," the taller blond answered with forced patience through gritted teeth.

"Jeez, if you don't have much spare clothing, what else did you pack in there? Your whole DVD collection?"

"That's my business, okay?"

"Fine, be like that if you want. But unlike some of us, I came here prepared and brought along spare PJs. I could lend you a pair if you ask_ reaaaal_ nicely."

Seifer felt his pulse quicken at the thought of wearing Zell's clothes. "No thanks."

Zell shrugged. "Suit yourself. But I'm not sleeping with you and your sweaty and muddy clothes in there. Either you change, or you sleep outside with mister Happy Tree. Your choice."

Seifer was about to send the martial artist a pointed glare when Zell proceeded to unbutton his shirt, and all thoughts of protestation suddenly flew out the window.

He simply couldn't believe it. The gunblader gaped in bewilderment as Zell Dincht casually started to undress in front of him. _Zell Dincht_, stripping down in front of him. This could not be happening, Seifer's mind raced as the blonde was unbuttoning his shirt, it couldn't be happening _for real_. Though inwardly feeling increasingly uneasy about this situation, the gunblade user could not help but stare as the younger man removed his shirt, revealing muscled arms and shoulders and a tight-fit white tank top that really didn't leave much to the imagination. Warmth sparked through Seifer's whole body as the shorter blonde then took off his tank top, revealing firm abs and a muscled chest, the muscles rippling underneath his smooth, creamy skin making the older man's mouth go dry.

Nonplussed, Zell then laid down on the sleeping bag, unbelted and unzipped his pants and raised his hips to slip his pants down when Seifer finally snapped out of his trance and looked away, his heart pounding in his chest. Feeling rather flushed and embarrassed, the ex-knight swiftly dished an old t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants out of his traveling bag. Facing the other side of the tent, Seifer hastily changed into his sleeping attire (which wasn't that easy considering the limited moving space the tent provided) to try to forget his own embarrassment and the burning memory of his crush stripping in front of him – a memory that was sure to inspire many dreams/daydreams to come.

God, he couldn't believe he had stared at the man undressing like some impressionable teenage girl. Sure, it had only lasted a couple of seconds, but he still had stared at him stripping. Curse his stupid libido! This was _Zell Dincht_. He was a _guy_, for fuck's sake! Confound his idiotic gay body! This was so _not _the moment to have these stupid thoughts! Seifer hoped against all hopes the martial artist hadn't caught him staring. But if he had, Seifer figured he would already be teasing him restlessly about it. Or making disgusted comments. As he had done neither, the gunblader felt it safe to assume his staring had gone unnoticed, which was some relief.

Reluctantly, he turned around to face the sleeping bag again when he was done, and was shocked a second time to find the other man sitting next to the thing, wearing only an old pair of battered and thin-looking flannel pants hanging low on his waist as he was putting his day clothes in his bag.

Feeling the eyes of the other man on him, Zell turned around to face Seifer, looking mildly annoyed.

"What again?"

"I thought you said you had PJs." Zell raised an eyebrow at him, looking down on the older man as if he was some kind of a dumb kid.

"I do," he said slowly, pointing his worn-looking pants. "Here they are."

"You're not seriously gonna sleep in this?"

"Fully intend to. What of it?"

Seifer could only stare, irked. "What do you mean, what of it?! We're gonna sleep together, the least you could do would be to put something on for fuck's sake! You're practically naked!"

Putting away his bag and unzipping the sleeping bag open, the instructor rolled his eyes. "Oh, puh-lease. You're seen me naked plenty of times in the shower room back in our cadet days, never seemed to traumatize you before, and we're no longer kids. Get over it and go to sleep before I change my mind and decide to just tie you to that damned tree."

Seifer opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it and turned around in resignation. Beside him, he heard the martial artist huff and mutter something that sounded like "stuck-up bastard" before he turned down the light.

Silently, the gunblader slipped inside the open sleeping bag, resolutely facing the other side of the tent. Felling tense, he heard the sound of ruffling clothes, and then felt the other man slip into the bag next to him. Zell's arms and legs brushed against his as he did so, the brief touches sending shivers down his spine. Even when the blonde stopped moving and settled in for the night, the double sleeping bag was so small Seifer could feel the other man's body lightly pressed against his back. Zell's body seemed to radiate warmth, which in turn made his own body temperature rise a few good degrees higher than was comfortable, and it all made it worse that the tall blond couldn't tell if he was sweating madly because he wasn't used to sleeping next to a source of body heat, because he was extremely embarrassed and uneasy by this forced intimacy or because this dammed situation made him hot as hell. Probably a bit of the three.

…And a lot of the latter.

Mentally cursing his stupid crush for the other man and the way his idiotic body was reacting to him like a fucking horny teenager, Seifer was trying not to think too much about how warm, firm and close the blonde felt against his body and to chase away images of the very hot half-naked man lying next to him. Seifer huddled himself up, feeling annoyed, tense and more than a little turned on.

Somehow, he had a feeling he would not get much sleep during this mission.

0o0o0

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

**Of Love, Fear and Control**

Alternative ending to _Enduring it_

Chapter 2

The days following that first night of camping found Seifer Almasy growing increasingly sullen and grumpy. If Zell noticed anything, he never commented on it and tried to avoid unnecessary interactions with the sour ex-knight, which was totally fine with Seifer. During the day, they set traps for monsters and checked on the ones they had previously set. So far, they had set free a few unwanted strays and injured monsters, but hadn't managed to catch any good specimens to bring back to the Garden, which seemed to be affecting the spirits of some of the younger Seeds. But overall, things were going just fine – or perhaps more accurately as well as they could given the situation. During the day.

Nights were another story, though. Between his... _unease..._ to have his personal space invaded by the half-naked martial artist (understatement of the year) and his justified fear of said man finding out about his nightmares/gay tastes, the gunblade user had not gotten much rest in the past few days – in fact, he hadn't gotten any since the beginning of the trip. Seifer was glad he hadn't packed in a mirror because he didn't fancy having a look at himself after these couple sleepless nights. Not that appearances mattered much here – or anywhere else, given he was despised pretty much everywhere- but Seifer had always been quite self-conscious of his looks and didn't fancy the idea of looking like the walking dead, which was precisely what he looked like if the way he felt was any indication. Though on the bright side, he has had insomnia problems for years, so he guessed people were used to see him look like shit.

Funny, that thought didn't brighten him up as much as it should.

As the night drew close on the fourth day, Seifer started to feel frankly apprehensive, more so than he had the previous nights. He didn't know what frightened him the most: the thought of falling asleep and revealing some of his darkest secrets to Zell Dincht in his sleep, or the prospect of spending yet another sleepless night. He'd never spent so much time without sleeping before and the last few forty-something hours were taking a toll on him. He was so weary and on the edge it was getting difficult to keep on a facade – though to be fair, he had stopped worrying about keeping his act up when putting one foot in front of another and not passing out from exhaustion became his topmost priorities.

It could not go on like this. Pride, fears and self-consciousness be damned, he _needed_ to sleep. Or passing out on the sleeping bag, really. Whichever came first. Only a few stolen hours of rest would do, at this point. He needn't care about anything else, he tried to reason himself. It was not like he could hope to never fall asleep in front of the martial artist anyway - there were about still ten days left to this stupid mission. He really needed to _sleep_. He just wished his irrational mind would get it already and give him some rest at last.

As Seifer changed into his pajamas that fourth night, trying to will himself to fall asleep, Zell decided to break the silence between the two of them.

"Say Almasy, how d'you like the mission so far? Everything's fine for you?"

"Fuck off, Dincht," he grouched, "I'm not in the mood for small talk."

"See, I was wondering how you were faring and stuff, 'cause you don't seem to have gotten a lot of sleep lately."

The ex-knight stilled and eyed the Seed appraisingly. Zell's tone had been light, as if he was simply saying out loud a thought that just crossed his mind, but Seifer was no fool. He perfectly recognized the comment for what it was: an inquiry that could easily turn into a full-out interrogation if he was not careful. The younger man upheld his stare defiantly – he had this resolute, mulish air about him the gunblade user knew only too well. _Well, there go my chances for another nice, quiet evening, _Seifer thought with a had been hoping the martial artist despised him enough to regard his chronic insomnia as unworthy of the efforts speaking to him required. But nooooo, of course, the good-meaning Zell _had_ to get involved and start probing him as well, just like the rest of his goddamned cronies. This situation really sucked, Seifer decided. His life was lousy enough as things were, he really did NOT need a stubborn Dincht on his case on top of everything else. If there was a God up there, the fucked up bastard really seemed to enjoy tormenting him.

"Your concern is charming," he grunted flippantly and slipped into the sleeping bag, ignoring the shorter man. He expected Zell to tell him off and start asking questions, which he fully intended to ignore as well, but to his surprise, nothing came. Silence stretched in the tiny tent, and the puzzled Seifer grew tenser with each passing second.

This was it? Dincht couldn't just be dropping the subject like that, couldn't he? Of course he wouldn't, the damned tattooed man hated to be brushed off. So why wasn't he speaking up?

Seifer's chain of thoughts was suddenly interrupted as something hard and pointy poked right between his shoulder blades. With a jolt, he turned around and glared at the Seed, who was smirking mischievously, a pencil in hand._ That dirty little fucker!_

"You know it's rude to pretend to be sleeping when someone's trying to speak with you?"

"Oh, really? My bad." Glaring at the martial artist, Seifer turned around and resumed ignoring him. Unfortunately for him, Zell seemed to have realized he had found the perfect tool to inflict revenge upon his childhood bully.

"Seeeeeeifer?" came his mocking sing-song voice, "I'm still talking to you."

Poke.

"Seifer?"

Poke.

"Seifer?"

Poke.

"Seeeeeeeeeeeeifer?"

Poke. Poke, poke, poke.

"Seif-"

"What?!" the gunblade user shouted, spinning around angrily. Zell raised an eyebrow at him.

"I was saying you haven't been sleeping a lot lately."

"I heard you alright the first time," Seifer grunted at the other man, falling back heavily on the sleeping bag.

"Why's that?"

"Oh, I don't know, a moron poking a pencil at me may have something to do with it right now."

"So am I to understand *_I* _am the reason why you can't sleep? Or do you usually have insomnia problems?" Zell asked back teasingly and Seifer's mouth scorned. There was no way he could answer any of these questions without giving out some kind of information, and either Zell was dumber than he thought, or he knew this very well. One look at the shorter blonde's face was all confirmation he needed. For once, his features were carefully unreadable – no heat, amusement or surprise in his usually so expressive blue eyes, no movement in his short eyebrows, no grimace or smile on his lips. Such an expression may have suited someone like Squall or Irvine, but on someone as open and straightforward as Zell Dincht, it was all sorts of wrong. There could have been a neon letters sign above the blonde's head reading _Pokerface_ it wouldn't have looked more suspicious. Seifer fought back a derisive smirk.

So Dincht wanted to try to outwit him? What a joke.

Well, if the blonde wanted to play that little game, so could he.

"Please," he scoffed, "Don't think so highly of yourself, I'm not interested in chickens."

"Insomnia it is, then?"

"You've slept in this joke they call a sleeping bag. You shouldn't have to ask." Seifer answered dismissively and turned away from the martial artist. As soon as he was set, he felt the pencil poke him again in the ribs and involuntarily let out a gasp of surprise as the pointy instrument hit a particularly sensitive area. Angrily, he spun around and tried to grab the offending office supply, but Zell was faster than him.

"The sleeping bag, honestly? I don't buy that."

Seifer let out a sigh of irritation. "You're right. I can't sleep at night because of the sleeping bag, and incidentally because you snore too much and keep on kicking around in your sleep."

"I don't snore and kick 'round."

"Oh? And how would you know? Can your –_long_- list of past lovers vouch for you?"

"I know 'cause if I snored and kicked you would've bitched about it non-stop from the first day on."

"I'm wounded, really, that you have such a bad opinion of me, Dincht. And here I thought we were starting to finally get along."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're reaaaal upset. Stop loading me, it's getting old. I don't snore, and for the record we've done plenty of camping together in Survival Class when we were teens, and I don't remember you having any sleeping problems back then."

_Well, this is new. He actually thought this over._ Seifer sat up, feigning surprise. "Dincht, you leave me speechless. I never suspected you had this kind of feelings for me. Spying on me in my sleep back in the old Survival Class Field Training? It'd almost be cute if it weren't so creepy. Have you loved me in secret all these years? I bet you planned this whole set up, didn't you? Should I be worried for my _virtue_?"

Zell merely looked bored, and the gunblader couldn't fight back a stupid twinge of disappointment at the total lack of reaction the suggestion of anything sexual between the two of them had sparked in the younger man. Obviously, the idea of intimacy between Zell and him was so grotesque to the martial artist he didn't even feel the need to respond to it.

"Very spiritual. You'd have to be sleeping first, and by the size of the marks under your eyes, I don't think you did in the past few days. Why won't you just tell me what's keeping you awake?"

"Stress."

Seifer had said it so straightforwardly the martial artist looked dubious. "Stress?"

"Hard to believe? You forget I haven't left the Garden in years. Being suddenly thrown into the real world with wild monsters lurking everywhere, it's very stressful."

"Seifer," Zell said warningly.

"I knew a _mighty _warrior such as yourself, used to defeating awesome monsters and fighting back invasion armies, wouldn't understand. See, I'm just a humble garden caretaker. I'm obviously unfit for such an adventurous lifestyle."

The martial artist snorted. "Humble? Did you just say _humble_? Since when were _you _everhumble?"

"Well, some people's got to be," Seifer answered roughly, "We can't all be heroes, can't we?"

"So that's why you can't sleep at night? 'Cause of the war?"

_Well, well. He's more stubborn than I gave him credit for_. People usually couldn't resist reminding him how much he had fucked up and how lucky he was the Garden decided to be so lenient on him when given the occasion. It worked especially well with Squall and Xu, but to his surprise, it appeared Zell wouldn't be as easily set off tracks.

"That would imply I actually have regrets for what I've done, wouldn't it?"

"Not necessarily. And you still haven't answered my question."

"You noticed? I'm impressed, bravo! You really are the finest the Seed has to offer. _La crème de la crème_."

Seifer sarcastically clapped his hands for good measure, and the blond man sitting beside him started to fume. "Okay, smartass, here's how it is. I'm not good at those mind games and I've got no patience for them. So either we discuss this calmly like two adults, or I punch you until you spill it. Your pick."

"Still solving problems with your fists? Seriously, I used to do that when I was twelve. But I forget, you've always been lagging behind in the intellect field."

"Seifer, I'm warning you."

"You see, that's the problem with Seeds nowadays. All brawl, but no brains-" The gunblade user scoffed, his sentence abruptly interrupted when a fist collided into his nose. Thrown back to the side of the tent, Seifer sat up, brought his hand to his nose and hissed a string of curses.

"Shit!" he shouted angrily at the younger man. "You moron broke my nose!"

"I warned you. And don't be a sissy, your nose's not broken, it's just bleeding a little."

"You're a real nutcase, you know that?"

"Well, let's face it, talking things over hasn't exactly given Kadowaki shining results, and Quistis hasn't fared better with threats and mind games. And technically, I'm allowed to use brutal force against you if you refuse to cooperate. I'll just make sure to mention you forced me to hit you in my report."

"You slimy little- oof!" Seifer took the second fist in the guts.

"My bad, what were you sayin' again?"

Searching for his breath, the ex-knight glared at the amused martial artist, who had crossed his arms and was staring at him smugly.

"Y'know, I thought this would be more fun. Bullying the bully. But I don't really get it, getting kicks from humiliating weaker people – I guess only an asshole like you can enjoy this kind of thing. Actually it would probably be little more fun if you at least tried to defend yourself. What happened to your guts, Almasy? Lost your balls? It's freakin' too easy to deck you if you don't even fight back. You could at least give me a little challenge, I could do with some mild training before going to bed."

Seifer didn't bite the bait. Fighting back Zell Dincht was not an option for him, and they both knew it. Even putting aside all the trouble it would get him into when he got back to the Garden, fighting a fully junctioned Zell Dincht would be plain stupid, Hyperion or not, for he wasn't allowed to use GF. He simply wouldn't stand a chance, and Zell knew it fully well.

"So you get a reason to hit to wound me?" the gunblade user barked back bitterly, "Wouldn't you love it. But don't mind me and go ahead, I'm sure your fists have got a lot of catching up to do with my face."

The shorter man froze, looking confused.

"What?" Seifer retorted scornfully. "Don't tell me you seriously thought I'd pick up a fight against you? Well sorry, but I'm not going to make it that easy to you."

"Ooo-kay. You should really get your head checked if you think not defending yourself is going to make it more difficult for me to beat your sorry ass into a pulp, but more importantly, I don't wanna beat you up. Well, not literally anyway, though I wouldn't have said 'no' to kicking some sense back into your Grinch-y self given the chance. I just want you to tell me what's keeping you awake. I guess I'll have to think of something else if being used as a punching bag turns you on or something."

It was Seifer's turn to be perplexed when Zell turned around and reached for his backpack, from which he managed to pull out a first care kit that he carelessly threw to the gunblader before starting digging again. "Here, put something on your nose before you bleed all over my sleeping bag."

"So... this is it?" the taller blonde asked incredulously.

"Why, you really want to get bashed up so badly? Try pissing off a PMS Selphie. Works fine for Irvine."

"Wait. Don't tell me you really thought… that I'd answer your stupid questions if you hit me hard enough?"

The martial artist shrugged without looking up. "'Was worth a try."

"…This is the lousiest idea I've ever heard of."

"Shut up."

"No, really, I mean it. I'm starting to think you really are a simpleton, Dincht. What did you figure, that your fists would solve everything? That I would _confide _into your _knuckles_?"

The younger man finally looked up from his bag with something that suspiciously looked like a book in his hand. "For the record, I thought perhaps you'd finally stop acting like such a pain in the ass if given the occasion to hit on something else than grats. Having a good spar to let out the tension, you know. It works for Squall anyway. If it could help you loosen up a little, I would have even let you hit me a couple of times. Maybe."

Seifer snorted. "What a noble soul you are."

"Shut up, it was a good plan, okay? It could have worked, too. But since you're being such an uncooperative ass, Plan B it will be." He said lightly, waving the small book at the other blonde.

"Oh, and what's your other brilliant idea? Normally I'd try to guess, but even my fertile imagination can't phantom where the abyss of your mediocrity ends." Seifer mocked the martial artist, but even as he sneered at him, he hated himself for being mean once again to the man. He didn't know why, something about the tattooed young man always managed to stir something in him, no matter how detached he tried to remain. And invariably, they ended up bickering.

It was only a small consolation for the bitter gunblade user to know that Zell despised him so much he had long stopped to care about the insults he threw at him. As to prove him right, the martial artist simply smirked at Seifer. "Y'know what this is?"

"_Interrogation for dummies_?"

"'_The burning flames of love'_, by Dyan Diamond." Zell showed the worn cover of the novel to the ex-knight, which displayed a very cheesy orange-ish illustration of a man and a woman enlacing each other lovingly in a bed of roses. Seifer grimaced.

"Most illuminating. I had no idea you had such good tastes in books. Actually, I'm surprised you actually _read_ books, I've always thought you imagined they were fancy paperweights."

"It's not mine, I specially borrowed it from Quistis for the occasion. I've never read it myself, but Selphie's full of praise for it. She said she laughed herself silly from cover to cover. Quistis didn't speak to her for weeks after that. I had to work reeeeally hard to get her to accept to lend it to me. I hope you appreciate all the efforts I made for you."

"For me?"

"Because I'm going to read this to you," Zell answered, setting himself comfortably on the sleeping bag and opening the novel. Seifer stared at him incredulously.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope."

"So that's your grand idea? You read some cheesy romance story for delusional, desperate spinsters until I crack?"

"Yup."

"And here I thought you couldn't sink any lower. Always full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Tease all you like, asshole. But if you knew Selphie like I do, you'd know anything that makes her laugh into tears has gotta be a great form of torture."

"I must have hit you too many times on the head when we were kids."

"Just shut up already", Zell Dincht grunted, and he started reading.

o0o0o

Three chapters later, Seifer was starting to find the whole thing a lot less amusing. He started grinding his teeth around the fifth chapter, counting in his head to try to ignore the constant flow of words coming out from Zell mouth around the eighth, and was ready to rip the damned thing apart to shreds by the time they reached the end of the twelfth. The only thing refraining him from snapping and giving in at this point was his goddamned pride. That, and the fact that he categorically refused to have put up with this shit for so long for nothing. If he gave up now, he would have endured this torture for no reason. And that was simply out of question.

"_Chapter thirteen: The combustion._ You sure you want me to continue? I mean, I don't mind reading all the way to the twenty-ninth chapter-" Seifer groaned from under his arms he had put over his head in an attempt to drown out the noise "-but it stops whenever you want."

"Fuck off," came Seifer's muffled voice.

Zell sipped some water and shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Around the middle of the nineteenth chapter, Seifer started to fear his ears would either start bleeding or fall off soon. Actually, some part of him was surprised he hadn't been physically sick after hearing so much mush.

"How can someone actually _like_ this shit?" the gunblade user asked out loud, staring fixedly at the tent above him from his lying down position on the sleeping bag. The martial artist, who was resting his back against his heavy backpack, looked up from the book.

"My theory is that there are too much crazy people loose out there. They should build more madhouses. It'd also explain why they let you loose."

"Please. Even _I _am not this insane."

"Really? I thought you were starting to warm up to the story."

"Fuck off."

"Because if you don't, dude I don't get it. It's not like what I want to talk 'bout is a big deal anyway, so why listening to this instead?"

"Huh, let me thing about it - _because it's none of your fucking business_?"

"I bet you secretly love this mush but you're just too proud to admit it."

"Shut up."

"Don't you want to find out how Rossi and Shauk will handle being separated for so long? Eight months away from the farm, lots of things can happen."

"I_ hate_ you."

Around the twenty-fourth chapter, the only thing stopping Seifer from literally begging Zell for mercy was the fact that there were only five chapters left. There would be an end to this torture. He only had to last a little longer. He could do it. He had listened to the first twenty-four chapters - he could handle five more, couldn't he? Of course he could.

Only five chapters left.

"_Chapter twenty-five_" Zell read out loud, "_Unexpected arrival. The day after Marloon sold the cow at the village turned out to be full of surprise as the prodige son and rival, Jacqui-"_

"Oh God, have mercy!" the gunblade user moaned under his breath. This was too much. There was only so much a man could endure! Everything, but _not _this! How could anyone even come up with such lousy shit?!

"Ready to give up already?" came Zell's smug voice, and the ex-knight gritted his teeth.

_Only five chapters left, Seifer. Five. _

"Fine, then. I'll keep readin'."

"Why do you even _care_?" Seifer spit out angrily, sitting up to glare at the other man. "I mean, we _hate _each other! So what's the big deal if I don't sleep well at night, huh?"

"I may not be your biggest fan, but I'm supposed to look after you and you look like one of those dudes in B-rated zombie movies. At this rate, you'll give _me _nightmares. You may not have brought a mirror along, but_ I _have to wake up next to you every morning."

"Don't tell me you're enjoying this, Dincht, I don't believe it. This is as much torture for me as it is for you. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm not going to give in, so do us both a favour and burn this atrocity for God's sake."

"You kidding, right? Quistis' gonna kill me if I return it in anything else but pristine condition."

"Come on, Zell. It's two in the morning, you're tired, I'm tired. Let's just call it a night and hope we don't make too many nightmares."

"God, you gotta be desperate to call me 'Zell'. To think I thought you had forgotten my name. I guess I underestimated you."

"For fuck's sake, give me that stupid book-!" Seifer snapped and lunged after the offending novel, but Zell was faster than him and kicked him away effortlessly.

"Come on. You're not going to take that book away from me. The only way you're going to make this stop is by answering this simple question: what's keeping you awake?"

Seifer crawled back to the sleeping bag and remained resolutely silent. He could do it. There were only five chapters left. He could not give in now, not when he could almost see the end of this infernal book. "I swear, you're going to pay for this."

"Uh huh. Where was I again? Right, we were starting chapter twenty-five."

Minutes went by tantalizingly slowly, as if time itself wanted to drag this torture on forever as Zell read out loud page after page of the seemingly endless novel. After what felt like a small eternity, they finally reached the very last chapter, anticipation building up in the older man as the end drew near. It felt like it couldn't come fast enough. Relief washed over Seifer when the martial artist at long last read the final page of the novel, and it was with an inner cry of joy that he watched him close the damned book.

At last, it was finally _over_! He'd done it, he'd out-willed that moron! He almost had a mind to sneer at the blonde, but held back – he had put up with enough shit as things were, he didn't want to provoke the martial artist into giving him some more for good measure.

Sitting cross-legged one across the other on the sleeping bag, the two men stared at each other for a moment in silence, impassive.

"So." Zell finally spoke up. "You liked it?"

"Like eating a dead porcupine." Zell nodded appreciatively.

"Good. And now, can we finally talk about what's keeping you awake?"

"Why, do you plan on reading it over again?" the older man joked, though in inwardly felt rather anxious at that thought.

"Nah. But we could find out right now what happens in the sequel though."

"Sequel?" Seifer asked blankly as the martial artist dig three other books of similar size and of equally disputable color out of his backpack.

"Didn't I tell you? It's a series, actually." He said it like it was something to actually rejoice over, and smiled – smiled! - at the stunned gunblader.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Amazing, isn't it? I even packed in extra batteries for the lamp before I left, so we wouldn't run out of light. Obviously, we can't read them all tonight but we can start the second volume now, stop at sunrise and pick it up where we left tomorrow evening." Zell gave his childhood bully a radiant smile and picked up the first novel on the pile. "Shall we get started, then?"

"No!" Seifer moaned loudly. "No. Please, stop, okay. Stop."

"Spill it, then."

Seifer buried his head in his hands and groaned. He couldn't believe he's ended up in this situation. This was so silly. Giving in over something so stupid. And to Zell Dincht, no less! But he felt so exhausted – physically and mentally – that he couldn't bring himself to fight anymore. At this point, all he wanted was to avoid having to listen to more of that damned story and be finally allowed to either fall asleep or pass out. Actually, passing out sounded good just about now.

"Seifer," Zell sighed when the man wouldn't speak up. "It's 3am. I'm tired. We just went through seven hours of the world's most sickening love story ever written. Let's just get this over with. What is it? I promise I won't laugh. You're afraid of the dark? Spiders? Need something to hug? Music? Sleeping pills? Got rashes? Phobia? Nightmares?"

"Insomnia," Seifer admitted at last. It was the only reasonably believable explanation he could come up with. It also happened to be partially true, but it wasn't like he was admitting much anyway – any five year-old could figure out he had an insomnia problem at this point. But he figured the sooner he confessed, the sooner the blonde would drop the subject. And he was ready to say anything not to talk about the nightmares – or about the other unmentionable. "I just have insomnia, okay? I can't sleep at night."

"Have you told Kadowaki about it?"

"Why?" Seifer snarled. "So she could prescribe me sleeping pills and then bug me because I'm not taking them?"

"I'm no doctor, but if your problem's just insomnia, then sleeping pills should do the thing. Besides, you're already supposed to be taking sleeping pills, only you're not."

The gunblader's eyes narrowed. "How do you even know that?"

"Kadowaki gave me a copy of your medical record before we left. Technically, I'm supposed to make sure you take your pills everyday."

Seifer groaned. Great. Just great. He should have known that bitch would use this mission to try to trap him. When she would finally get the proof that he wasn't taking his medication, she was going to be even more annoying. As if he needed this on top of everything else. Tiredness helping, Seifer felt suddenly more defeated than he had felt in years. This turned out to be one of the most epically rotten evenings of his life.

"I gotta say, when you take pills to counter the effects of other pills, you're taking waaaaaay too many pills. Do you pile them? Cause if you do, you could totally open up a drugstore."A spiteful retort at once came to the scarred man, but he didn't have the heart to banter anymore, so he just grunted under his breath.

"So why don't you take your sleeping pills? I mean, the real reason."

Seifer heaved a frustrated sigh. He might as well just get this over with. Obviously, the blonde was not going to give up anyway. "I make nightmares."

"Even with the sleeping pills?"

"If pills worked against nightmares, believe me, I'd take them."

"Why haven't you told Kadowaki?"

"Why do you think they haven't managed to lock me up in a madhouse yet?" Seifer growled defensively.

"Don't be stupid," Zell snorted, crossing his arms expressively. "After what happened, having nightmares' normal. Rinoa had nightmares every night or so for the first two years, and Squall's so doped up on sleeping pills he can't sleep otherwise anymore. You're a grounchy prick, but you're not crazy."

"Fuck off."

"So that's just it, then?" Zell asked after a pause. "Nightmares?"

Seifer grunted in response.

The martial artist seemed satisfied with that answer. "Okay," he simply said, nodding, and then started to change into his pyjama in front of a surprised Seifer. The ex-knight didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't this. Zell, shrugging his nightmare issues as something normal. Nobody ever shrugged anything related to Seifer as normal anymore, not even Fuujin and Raijin. Somehow, everybody always had to make a big deal of every little Seifer-related issue, either showering him with overeager empathy or scrutinizing every gesture of his with suspicion. That was one of the reasons why he was so reluctant to open up on people and still refused to talk about so many things, even to the two last people he still considered his friends. To have someone treat him so nonchalantly was... oddly nice. Like he was a person again, and not just some dangerous ex-villain who needed to be kept in check.

Slipping inside the sleeping bag, he tried not to feel too relieved just yet the martial artist hadn't asked for more specific details about his nightmares. Because he really didn't want to have to elaborate about those. It wasn't because the blonde had decided to drop the subject it meant he was off the hook just yet. He wasn't ready to believe Zell was satisfied with his answers - he had a feeling this discussion was not over, but merely postponed.

Next to him, the martial artist settled for the night and closed the electric lamp. He could feel the warmth of the other man's body right next to his, only his presence didn't feel as unnerving as it had the nights before. He didn't know whether it was because he was simply too tired to care anymore, or because of what had just happened between them. Not just that small moment when Zell managed to make Seifer feel like a normal person again, but the last few hours as a whole, they had felt just so... natural. Granted, they had bickered the whole time, and he had wished he could strangle the blonde more than once, but somehow... He couldn't put it into words. Frowning, the gunblader realized it had been the closest thing to something normal he had had in the last five years – normal for them, he guessed, but still normal.

Hell, he was too tired to be thinking about this shit. Sorting through all these feelings was too much trouble right now. He needed to sleep.

o0o0o

Time passed. Awfully slowly. And to Seifer's growing annoyance, sleep wouldn't come. At some point he turned around, laying on his back, and stared at the tent above him. The moonlight peered inside the tent trough a small, screened window on his right. He didn't know how long he laid there, waiting for sleep to finally take over – it could have been five minutes or two hours, he couldn't tell – when the man beside him let out a frustrated sigh.

"Shit." Zell swore into the silence of the night. "This sucks so much. I think I caught your insomnia."

Seifer felt so tired he heard the words leave his mouth dully, almost as an automaton. "You can't catch insomnia, moron."

"Shut up. This is totally your fault," Zell shot back, but there was no actual malice in his voice. "Soooooo tired... If only I'd brought sleeping spells along. Y'know, sleeping spells are like slippers. Or socks. Yeah, more like socks, really. You always have some lying about, but when you really need some, you can't find any. 'Cause they're lost under the bed, or your Ma just decided to put 'em all in the dirty laundry because they stank too much. And of course, she's out of detergent, so you know, you have to dig through the whole bag to fish them out and that's gross."

"Will you shut up?"

"You know, this is really fucked up," Zell mused out loud next to the older blonde, gesturing with his arms for good measure from his lying down position. "This. Right now. Us, sleeping together, talking and shit."

"You're the one doing the babbling." Seifer pointed out, though the weirdness of situation was not lost upon him.

"Well if I counted on you to do the small talk, I'd be pretty bored right now. Besides, I feel chatty. I personally blame lack of sleep. I tend to say everything that comes in mind when I'm tired or drunk. Even stupid things."

"I didn't know you could say other things than stupid things."

"Ha ha, very funny. You'd think that in about ten years of bickering, you'd have learned better come backs at some point."

"Why bother when you make it so easy for me? Stop opening doors and I'll stop barging in." There was a short pause.

"Say, I've always wondered-"

"You just won't shup up, will you?"

"How much are you actually getting paid for your job at the Training center?"

"...You mean, taking care of _grats_?" the blonde asked derisively.

"Yeah." Seifer didn't answer right away. Beside him, the martial artist was growing restless with curiosity.

"Aw, come on, I'm curious. Tell me."

"No. Now piss off."

"Pretty please? Pretty, pretty please?"

"_Pretty please_? Seriously, how old are you, five?"

"Come on, you've gotta tell me. Please?"

Seifer sighed. He was feeling too tired to fight.

"About 14,000 gils a year, minus the housing fees."

"How much, the housing fees?"

"About 14,000 gils a year."

There was a pregnant silence, and the man lying beside him started to snickers, then to laugh out loud. His honest, frank laugh brought small smile on Seifer's lips.

"Oh, man," Zell wheezed at last, still laughing. "I bet you don't have paid vacations either?"

"Only Christmas and Hyne's day."

"Dude, Squall's got you good. I didn't think you were this stupid. Rinoa's the one who nagged Squall into getting you a job and paying you to start with. You could just slip something into a discussion and she'd get you a pay rise in no time. The question's why you haven't."

Seifer said nothing, and Zell turned his head to stare at him more seriously, an eyebrow raised.

"Seriously though, why haven't you?"

"No money's worth having to deal with Rinoa."

"Aww, come on. She's not that bad. Most of the time."

Seifer snorted. "You say that because she leaves you alone."

"Right. You've got a point. She finds me too talkative, can you believe it?"

"_Yes_, I _can."_

"Shut up."

A comfortable, companionable silence then ruled over the tent. Zell was right, the gunblader's sleep-deprived mind decided. This situation was definitely weird. The two of them, staring at the roof of the tent in the middle of the night and bickering idly. Though he didn't mind weird much about now. For some reason, this – whatever it was - felt strangely comfortable. Like he'd just put on a worn-out but comfortable pair of slippers after a long, hard day of work.

"So you've read my medical file?" Seifer asked, on a wimp.

"Mission parameter obliged. Or so Squall said anyway. They were sorta afraid you'd have a big, psycho tantrum or something."

"... What does it say?" the gunblader asked tightly, half-expecting the blonde to either tease him or tell him to shove it.

"Nothing much, really," the shorter blonde answered with a shrug. "It goes on and on about how much of an uncooperative wackjob you are, and that's about it. The most useless evening of my life, reading this. Like I needed 70 pages to figure that one out. And *I'm* supposed to be the stupid one too."

"Glad you finally realized your place."

"Why do you have to always be like that?"

"You mean, be brighter than you?"

"I mean being such an ass."

"So I'm an ass too? Isn't uncooperative wackjob enough anymore?"

"I meant in general," Zell huffed impatiently. "With everybody. It's like you're doing it on purpose. If I didn't you know you any better, I'd say you enjoy making it difficult for everybody else."

"And what makes you think I don't?"

"I think you like making it difficult to yourself," Zell answered with a shrug, still staring at the tent above them. Seifer frowned.

"You're not making any sense."

"I totally am, you just don't get it."

"I'm not even sure you understand yourself."

"You think you're such a puzzle, don't you? Everybody always go like 'ohhh, Seifer's so misunderstood' or 'he's changed so much," the martial artist said in a mocking voice, using high-pitched girlish accents to imitate Rinoa. "I say you haven't changed at all. You're still the same single-minded idealistic prick, taking all the shit on you and then suffering alone, like a goddamned tragic fallen hero. Matron shouldn't have let you watch all those crappy knight movies when we were kids, it fucked you up real good."

The taller man frowned, the off-handed comment hitting closer to home than he would have liked. "Shut up," he growled.

"I mean, by this time I would have guessed you would have figured out this whole 'I hate myself so I'm being an asshole to keep people at bay' attitude of yours isn't really productive – hell, it ain't even working. I know it comes naturally to you to act like a prick, but it's not getting you anywhere. How long do you still plan to be brooding around the campus and shoveling grat dung for free for Squall anyway?"

"What would you have me do then?" The gunblader asked, feeling irked. "Manage the library? Clean toilets and hallways?"

"I dunno. Start anew somewhere else? We kinda all expected you to run off after a few months. Some even counted on it, to be honest."

"Where to? In case you didn't know, I'm not exactly Mr popular out there."

"_Please._ You could have put on glasses, a little make up and died your hair and made a new life in Fisherman's Horizon, or Esthar. It would have been easy to buy false papers and start anew in any huge, anonymous city. Hell, Squall's so sick to have you around he'd buy you a house in Fisherman Horizon with his own money to be rid of you, if you were just ready to stop with the whole I-hate-the-world-in-general attitude."

Seifer stared at the martial artist, confused. His reaction seemed to exasperate the younger man.

"What? You thought he was planning to keep you locked in the BGU forever? Sorry to break it to you, but this arrangement was supposed to be a one-year thing. Or two, maybe, but the idea was to give you some time to get over what happened before you went back to civil life. We would have kept a close check on you, though, just to be sure. Fuujin and Raijin had already agreed to look out after you and keep in touch with us if anything happened when you'd leave – or run away. Odine has this theory – he thinks people who've been controlled by a sorceress for a lengthy period would be likely to, you know... become some sort of sorceress magnet for weaker witches and such. So we couldn't just throw you out there alone out of the blue while you were still upset and shit."

The gunblader stared at Zell, feeling rather numb. "Why has nobody ever told me of this?"

"Kadowaki figured it'd give you too much of a shock. The idea of being controlled again, I mean. And she said it wasn't a good idea to give you a deadline to get over everything."

Seifer didn't say anything. He was still having a hard time to digest all this new information. So him staying at the BGU hadn't been a... permanent kind of thing? When he thought about it, nobody ever said it would be, but he always assumed it was because the Garden didn't want to officially take responsibility for him on a long-term basis. He had always assumed... But now that he knew, he didn't know what to make of it. To be free to go, to have a life awaiting him somewhere else in a close future was a perspective he suddenly found oddly scary, like he was about to jump in a fog of unknown. One that was still haunted by sorceresses, it appeared.

What he found especially hard to accept was the fact that everybody had known, but that nobody had been ready to tell him. Not even Fuujin and Raijin. In all those years, they never mentioned any of this in their letters. It left a rather bitter taste in his mouth.

"So what, you would have never told me and... let me loose just like that?" _Plotting behind my back together _was the thought that came next, but he held it back.

"'Course not. We were just waiting for you to get back on your feet. Only you never did. You just spent all you time brooding and moping and locking yourself in your room."

"And what do you expect me to do now that I know?" the gunblade user asked spitefully. That got Zell's attention.

"Hey, you're not gonna tell anyone I told you, right? Cause if you do, I'm gonna be in _so_ much trouble."

Seifer had half a mind to tell the shorter blonde to shove it, but then he had a better idea. "I won't if you don't tell anyone about my nightmares. Or about the fact I don't take my medication."

"Deal," Zell breathed with relief, falling back to the sleeping bag. "To answer your question, you could just stop being an ass, that'd be a good start. Rinoa says you can be charming when you put your mind into it, so I assume you do _know _how to act nice."

"Fuck off."

"My point exactly. Just... pretend this whole camping trip did you some good. Keep sarcasm to a tolerable level, let people see you do something else than brooding and killing grats. Get a hobby, like growing plants or making miniature models. Eat at normal hours, pretend to be a little interested in what people have to say and smile and nod once in a while when they're talking to you – you know, what people do to be friendly. If you try hard enough, I bet you could even _like_ it. But, don't be too, you know, nice and stuff or else people won't buy it. Or worse, they'll think I had something to do with it and then I'll be stuck with Quistis' babysitting job." Zell made a grimace, as if he could barely imagine a worse fate.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Seifer asked suspiciously. "Is this supposed to be some sort of set up Kadowaki thought of to make me talk?"

Zell scoffed. "If it were, do you think they would have picked ME for the job? They'd taken someone better with words, like Irvine or Quistis. I'm just the dumb one." To Seifer's mild surprise, there were traces of bitterness in Zell's tone, but before he could give it much thought, the blonde went on. "Anyway. D'you think I'm happy to have to walk you around the campus and bear with your crappy attitude everyday? I'm not, so get over yourself already. Hey," Zell said suddenly, his tone light and teasing. "D'you realize you've spoken more in the past eight hours than you probably have in the past five years? You've made so much progress in one night. Kadowaki'd be so proud."

"Fuck off."

"Does that make of me your best friend?"

"Don't make me hit you, Dincht," Seifer warned, but there was no real bite in his voice.

"What happened to 'Zell'? I thought we were finally past this."

"We can always go back to 'chickenwuss' if you'd like."

"No, thanks."

Silence stretched. Seifer mused over what Zell had said, too tired to think about things quite clearly. He had a feeling he should be more upset about this, but perhaps it could come when he would feel awake enough to seriously think it all over. Or perhaps it had something to do with the very flippant way Zell had put it. The martial artist had a way of making things sound a lot less troublesome than they really were, Seifer decided. Perhaps that was the reason why he was always so infuriatingly cheerful.

"I've been thinking," Zell declared thoughtfully after a while.

"Congratulations."

"About what I would tell Quistis when I returned the book. You wouldn't believe the bullshit I had to pull out to borrow it. I know she's going to want to know how I liked it and what was my favourite part and stuff – people always do that when you borrow books. I was thinking I could tell her it didn't manage to read them because you borrowed them from me."

"I hate you."

"You loved them so much I couldn't tear you apart from them." Zell went on on a mocking voice. "It almost endangered the mission – _almost_."

"She's not gonna buy it."

"Don't be so sure. You know, she may be unpleasant to you, but Quistis' a real romantic deep down. Emotional and stuff. She'd totally believe me if I used the right words. If I tell her, say, that underneath your gruffness and generally dick-ish attitude, you're a lonely soul torn by remorse, desperate to find love and someone to care for but unable to express yours true feelings."

"Stop it, I think I'm gonna puke," Seifer joked, putting on a revolted grimace for good measure.

"You'd just have to look a tiny little bit guilty when she thinks you think she isn't watching and bam! She'd be all over poor-old misunderstood you. Hell, if you were willing to play along, you could even date her. She's that desperate."

Seifer let out a bark that sounded strangely like laughter. This night was definitely full of surprises – A punch in the face, Dyan Diamon, confidences, banter, and now this? Zell Dincht trying to set him up with Quistis? "Not happening in a million years."

"Why not?" Zell asked very seriously. "She's gorgeous, intelligent. She's got the hottest legs in all Balamb and she even cooks decently. What's not to like?"

"Why don't you date her then?"

"Quistis? Nah, I'm so_ not_ her thing. She's all for epic, misunderstood men. Besides, she's not my type."

"What, blondie here doesn't do blondes? Or perhaps you prefer to date women less intelligent than you?"

Frowning suddenly, Zell hosted himself on his elbow and stared at the man next to him. "..._What_?" he asked, looking genuinely confused.

In the near darkness of the tent, Seifer mistook the man's confusion for outrage and smirked. "Now THAT would explain why you've stayed single for so long – must be a tough call finding a chick dumber than you are."

"Wait, you mean you don't _know_?" Zell sounded incredulous now.

"Know what?"

Zell stared some more at the puzzled older man, looking perplexed again. "I thought you knew! I mean, everybody's known for _ages_. And you've been acting so stiff and all!"

"Dincht, can you make less sense right now?"

"Huh." Zell said thoughtfully. "So you really_ don't _know."

"Don't know what?" Seifer asked, growing annoyed. The martial artist stared at him thoughtfully for a few seconds, then his face stretched in the most mischievous smirk Seifer had ever seen the tattooed man bear. The next second, Zell was crouching uncomfortably close over the gunblade user, practically radiating evil intent. Underneath the smaller man, the ex-knight instantly went from slightly irritated to frankly apprehensive, a whole lot of unidentified emotions taking over his guts as the smug man loomed over him.

"Didn't you know?" Zell practically purred, a predatory smirk dancing on his lips. "I'm _gay_, Seifer."

Frozen, Seifer started at the martial artist in horror, then freaked out and pushed the flirty blonde off him, instinctively trying to scramble out of the sleeping bag in panic. Beside him, Zell instantly roared with laughter.

"Get away from me, you- you-!" the gunblade user shouted, getting out of the sleeping bag and away from the blonde in panic, which in turn made Zell laugh even louder, the shorter blonde rolling on the ground, taken over by an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Panting in a corner of the tent, Seifer frowned at the younger man, unsure what to make of his reaction. Had the blonde really... _meant_ it? Or was he messing with him? This had to be some sort of a joke, right?

"You should have seen your face!" the Seed sniggered as on cue. "Funniest moment EVER! Wait till I tell Selphie 'bout this! This is just too good! Ha!"

Grinding his teeth, Seifer glared hard at the laughing man. Of course, Dincht had been pulling his leg! He felt angry with himself for even thinking otherwise. Damn that stupid Dincht, saying stuff like that out of the blue and making him look like such a fool! "Fuck off! Don't you EVER do something like that, you hear me? Or I swear I'll slice that goddamned head of yours straight off!"

"You mean, telling you I was gay or coming on you?" Zell asked cosily, falling back on his back. "Cause since you already know, I don't see the point of telling you again. As for the last part, it was only for the gag - the very idea of hitting on you *is* rather disturbing. But it's nice to see there's still some of the old Seifer underneath your gruffness."

Seifer gaped confusedly at the younger man, a nervous, apprehensive feeling fighting for dominance with anger in is guts. It was a joke right? Zell had been kidding. He'd said that to make fun of him, to get a reaction out of him, hadn't he? Moments ago, he had been so certain it had just been a practical joke, but now he didn't know what to think anymore. And the doubts it stirred in his mind made him very uneasy. And freaked out.

"Geez, don't look so heartbroken over it. It just wasn't meant to be, you and me," Zell teased again, smirking.

"Okay, stop it now," Seifer tried to sound more irritated than freaked out, "that gay thing, or whatever. Drop it. It's seriously disturbing."

Zell yawned. "Yeah well, it's not like I can drop being gay, you know. But rest assured, you don't need to worry for your '_virtue_', if you ever had any. I don't do zombies, especially ones who hadn't had a real bath in four days. You should have a look at yourself, you'd scare away children on Halloween."

With that said, the martial artist rolled over to face the other side of the tent. Still wary, Seifer watched the martial artist from afar, hesitating to return to the sleeping bag. Rolling over to face him, Zell gave him an exasperated look.

"I don't bite Almasy, so get your stupid ass back here already, will you? Hurry up before you catch a cold, it's chilly out there."

Grunting something he meant to be menacing under his breath, Seifer slowly slid back into the sleeping bag, feeling more aware than ever of just how close the martial artist's half-naked warm body was to his. Except now, instead of just feeling aroused and uneasy, he felt apprehensive and troubled as well.

He still couldn't decide if the blonde had been pulling his leg or not about being homosexual and it bothered him. More than the fact that he was messing with his head, he didn't like the idea that Zell Dincht could be anything else than as straight as an arrow. It was a thought he had drilled into his own head over the years, mostly to better control the unrequited feelings he had for the man and crush any hopes he may have harbored to see his affections returned. Not that he had ever wished to actually date the blonde or anything. He was not that delusional, contrary to popular belief. The point was it was convenient to assume Zell was straight because it meant he didn't have a chance. And if he didn't have a chance, it made it easier to just try to forget about both his stupid crush and his blasted homosexuality. But this...

_How am I supposed to be sleeping now?_ he wondered with a muffled groan. His head was buzzing with questions and worries, thanks to one damned indiscreet, possibly gay blonde lying next to him, radiating body heat like it shouldn't be allowed to. To think he had felt comfortable lying next to the man only minutes ago! There was no way he was going to fall asleep now. At this rate, he wouldn't be sleeping until they got back to the Garden.

Screw this. Tomorrow night, he was going to take the damned sleeping pills Selphie had packed into his backpack. He'd try to get by in the meanwhile. With any luck, the adrenalin of it all would get him through the next day. And if it did not, he could always take comfort in the thought that he would finally get some rest when he passed out.

To be continued...

o0o0o

**AN:** Yeah, Zell's being nasty in this one. And I loved every bit of it.

BTW, I edited the previous chapter and the story "Enduring it". No important changes, but it's a lot more fluid and more in-character, so I highly recommend you guys to read them over ;)

Usual warnings apply. English is still not my native language. I try to write the best I can, but if you run into mistakes, please tell me.


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